I call her a stray because that was what she was when Animal Control picked her up a year ago. She was already totally housebroken at two months old, so we imagine she was not well treated wherever she began her journey. But that is not the subject of this post.
Last Tuesday morning, Grace and I were out on a nice long walk, when a big dog came running out from a yard on Center Street. It came at Grace with purpose, and we soon found out what that purpose was. Mocha - for that is her name - spread her front legs and went down into the universal canine "let's play" stance. Well... Grace never turns down an opportunity to play. They romped and jumped and ran and sniffed each other for a good ten minutes while Mocha's human and I talked about out dogs. Mocha is about the same age, just over a year, and loves loves loves to play. It was hard to end their obvious joyfulness, but I had to get home and get ready for work.
This morning, Sunday, Grace and I went out for our pre-church walk. Usually there are two choices to start out with - north to Shadybrook Park or south to either the VFW property or Cora Clark Park. This morning she surprised me by heading west. She led me up Chestnut Street to Lafayette. She stopped and looked around for a few minutes, then proceeded north on Lafayette. She turned west on Euclid, over to Porter, then north again. This was when I got an inkling. Sure enough, after sitting at Porter and Center for several minutes, looking around and sniffing the air, she led me down Center Street and directly to Mocha's yard. Mocha was not outside at 8:15 on a Sunday morning, so we came back home, Grace disappointed, and I bearing a great respect for her memory and her willingness to follow her dreams.
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